The frogs are late coming out of hibernation in the Highlands compared with most other parts of the country. They soon move, mainly by springing leaps, to their breeding sites where there is often a frenzy of activity. Our nearest colony is in parts of a slow, almost sluggish burn at the bottom of the garden. The average date for laying their spawn here, at 700ft above sea level, is 23 March but this varies elsewhere in the area. The earliest are in low-lying ponds, especially those near the coasts.

A colony on the hill on the opposite side of the strath to "our" colony, is much later. The site, a small isolated bog pool only three metres across, is on open moorland at 508 metres. The spawn is not laid until two, sometimes three weeks, later than ours.

In most years I set off to search for spawn on 23 March and this year I was joined by that indefatigable hunter, Sgeir. She is one of our six miniature dachshunds and she has already proven her worth in searching for butterflies. On this occasion I did not expect to see any sign of the frogs as the winter had been so severe in our strath and, for that matter the rest of the Highlands.

Sgeir, needless to say, heard the first frog as she suddenly stopped by the steep bank of the burn and stood motionless perhaps thinking for a brief moment she was a pointer. Then I heard it, that characteristic buzzing croak and there was the head of a single male pushing out of the water amid black swarms of egg clumps. I was surprised as the clumps, which were at least three days old, had floated up to the surface and mingled like one huge mass of black spots. Generally the female frog only lays one clump of eggs so you can estimate the number of breeding females, but with such a conglomeration this was not possible.